Power's Out
by Salome Sensei
Summary: Power's out at headquarters and Light and L are alone with Ide's flask of scotch. Shameless UST. Rated M but it's really more OT. Co-written with the incomparable Pseudohanyou.


**Author's Note**: Pseudohanyou tempted me to write Death Note again. First time trying my hand at Light. Let us know what you think, but don't be too harsh; it's all about the shameless UST!

**Power's Out**

**a BIRTHDAY GIFT-FIC for the one and only AshMu!**

Neither Light Yagami nor the detective known only as L took defeat easily. So when, at about 12:45am on an otherwise uneventful night, L plugged in the newest surveillance device Watari had brought on his order and Light powered up the computer to which it was attached, both boys' eyes gleamed like jewels at the new toy…and blew every fuse in the entire building. Each blamed the other for whatever had gone wrong; neither was willing to take the slightest bit of blame.

Pointless bickering between two young men attached at the wrist by a chain for weeks on end as they attempt to catch a mass murderer is not a pretty sight, so we spare you, dear reader, the details. Suffice it to say that within fifteen minutes of the power outage and Watari's assurance he would do his utmost to return everything to normal (however defined) by morning if not sooner, headquarters was hastily vacated by every officer from Chief Yagami barking orders to the fumbling Matsuda, who managed to knock over an entire tray of pastries on his way out, much to L's already chagrined chagrin. Mogi, Ide and Aizawa chimed in agreement that they needed a break anyway, and headed for the exit. As he passed Light, however, the quiet Ide handed off a flask of good scotch and told the chief's son to relax a bit…and get the uptight detective to mellow out for a few hours as well.

And L caught this little exchange, though his face did nothing to reveal this; wide eyes fixed solely on the darkened screen, as though at any moment, it would come to life again, putting them back in business, so to speak. Whatever had caused the outage had also caused a significant halt in their investigation: a fact that the detective would be foolish to view as a mere coincidence.

"I hope that Light-kun is not under the impression that we will be passing the time drinking while Kira is still at large and there is work to be done." The chair creaked, and L turned to face his captive, his suspect, his _friend_. Though it was a loose term, at best, it was such a heavy word to use between two individuals who were most definitely little more than rivals. "And I wasn't aware that someone of your standing would indulge." More of a disappointment-laden reprimand than anything. Also, a clear way of L stating that no, he was not going to partake in this particular activity, though in truth, there was little to do until the power would be restored.

One of the downfalls of keeping everything on electronic record, he supposed.

Light twitched and deftly turned it into a shrug. This wasn't his fault. If anything, it was yet another stratagem by his owl-eyed colleague, warden, friend. Well, he claimed Light was a friend, but what did it mean, really? Right now it meant the usual barbs that never quite hit their target but never missed entirely either. So. L wasn't going to drink. Neither was Light. "I don't drink," he said, passing the words casually between his lips as if he had not contemplated for a single moment what it might be like to see L drunk, to be drunk himself. The liquid sloshed in the flask.

Misa had tempted him more than once with liquor, even going so far as to try to pass sake from her mouth to his in a kiss. That had ended up a mess down the front of an expensive dress, and she was livid about it. He scratched his chin. A random detail with nothing before or after it. Why had they been at a sushi bar, Misa drinking and smiling too brightly, cheeks aglow as she fed him bits of fried squid? Where had they gone after? His memory was blank. He shifted his thoughts back to L, staring intently at him. "And how is it you plan to get work done in the dark?"

"I don't," L simpered, letting his gaze trail to the flask. "Watari is extremely efficient in problem-solving. We won't be in the dark very long." Or at least he hoped not. The back-up emergency lights were no more than a faint, olive glow, illuminating only the necessary. It would have been fair to say that L was put in a position of discomfort; something akin to paranoia. He would have to keep his attention sharp, his eyes keen, because if anything were to befall him right now, Light could simply claim that it was a darkness-induced accident and would be believed.

Exemplary son. Mass murderer. Perhaps.

Ah, but if he could lower Light's awareness, even a bit, it would give him the upper-hand. It would put his mind at ease in knowing that if the other were to try anything, his senses would be dulled. Perhaps just enough for L to take advantage, move a little faster. His cognitive abilities would be a step above, and while Light might make up for it in lack of inhibition, L would possess a higher level of self-awareness.

A nod toward the flask and L shifted in his chair, pulling his legs just a bit tighter against his torso in the event that he would have to strike out suddenly. "Does Light-kun realize that it is illegal for persons under the age of twenty to be in possession of an alcoholic beverage?"

Watari would fix things quickly; there was no question the creepy butler-sidekick would have the young master's surveillance room up and running in no time. He scoffed inwardly. If one had to have an authority figure in one's life, and even when one was smart and mature enough not to need formal guidance or oversight, which was more and more the case in his life, then it should be a proper father figure, like his own. Respectable, mature, solid—if stolid. Not strange and silent and hiding around the corner with an unending supply of pastry and coffee. L's whole life—or what little he knew of it—was far too much like a bad comic book. He himself was what a teen should be, or what everyone he knew wished they were. And if there were gaps in his memory, questions he couldn't answer? Well, he was certain there were far worse skeletons in L's closet.

"You do that on purpose, don't you, that 'Light-kun' nonsense?" he groused. "Who talks like that? Why don't you just say 'you' – 'Don't _you_ realize that it is illegal. And, by the way, yes, yes Light-kun does realize." He tossed the flask to L on a sudden whim, certain the freak would catch it rather than let it clatter onto the keyboard in front of him. Then he'd be able to say, "Doesn't L-kun realize that it is illegal for persons under the age of twenty…" What a show. What a ridiculous game. He was above this sort of thing, far above it.

L's first reaction, upon seeing the flask coming toward him, was to press against the back of his chair, brows rising at the attempted assault. Instinct quickly rose to the foreground, however, and he reached out with both hands, caught the flask which slapped against his palms with a nearly-echoing sound and a slight sting to his skin. "That was quite unnecessary," he muttered, even as his mind immediately began to formulate a method of action. In order to convince Light to drink, L would have to make it appear as though he was not only doing the same, but consuming an equal amount.

Composure quickly regained, and his fingers ran over sides of the cap; tips feeling out grooves and indentations absently. It was an unpleasant sensation against his skin, an unfamiliar one. L was used to routine, even in a setting that provoked anything but, and yes, this even came down to such small things as textures. He was used to the way a cherry felt pinched between his thumb and forefinger, the smooth feel of laptop keys, but this… This was cold, rough and unfamiliar, and it made him resist a frown.

"Kira-kun is on to me, yes?" Of course, everything that L did was for show, down to his speech patterns, and of _course_, he would expect nothing less of Light Yagami than to pick up on it, and so he issued the challenge, twisting the cap open, even as his eyes searched Light's for a reaction to the blatant taunt. And then the drink was held out; this challenge, a wordless one.

Light gave a single quiet bark of a laugh, entirely for show. Yes, L, go from "Light-kun" to "Kira-kun" and expect a reaction. Idiot. A guy doesn't get top scores in every subject every term if he is easily provoked. Still, the way he was caressing and almost flinching as he touched the flask was positively unearthly. It wouldn't surprise him a bit if L turned out to come from another planet. The planet of gigantic unblinking eye people. He reached out and grabbed the flask, if only not to have to see it in those twitchy fingers.  
Already opened, it was but a moment's gesture to tip his head and the flask up and back. A little of the amber liquid trickled in. No way was he letting the metal touch his lips. Who knew what germs Ide had in that quiet little mouth of his. The burning began instantly, and though he valiantly fought the cough and splutter, there was no use. He should've just sucked it down instead of pouring it like that. Then he wouldn't be wiping his mouth on his sleeve and choking as he pushed the flask back into L's hand.

"I fail to see the amusement in the strong possibility of you being Kira, Light-kun." A moment's hesitation before the drink was accepted; the metal flask warmed slightly from being held. Granted, L had absolutely no desire to drink, had never tasted liquor in his life, and would possibly be sick from it later, but a challenge was a challenge. Long fingers pulled the hem of his sleeve down, creating a makeshift rag that he then used to wipe over the rim, poke a cloth-covered index into the mouth of the bottle to wipe around the inner perimeter. This was repeated twice before he brought it to his lips, using every ounce of his will in order to not scrunch his features at the assaulting smell.

"And if you think that my drinking with you is going to lower my inhibitions, you are mistaken." Projecting, he knew. But it did nothing to stop him from tipping his head back, taking that sip: the first. The one that might or might not have been the first in a series, depending on Light's reaction to the situation L was presenting.

Which, at present, he wasn't quite sure as to what it was. Lower Light's awareness, yes. Get him to speak. Taunt and drink until a possible confession was drawn and, well—

The flask was lowered, handed across again, and the tip of L's tongue slipped out to catch a stray droplet off of his bottom lip. Bitter.

Light watched that tongue tip, snakelike, catch the drop. How someone so gangly and awkward could also be snakelike? Let that be one of life's mysteries. Like Light Yagami, sitting here in the dark, drinking with L, who thought he was Kira. "I was choking, you fool, not laughing." And he admitted that why? He tipped the flask back and let it pour again. L could catch whatever funk Ide and whoever he shared it with had, but not Light. He didn't choke this time, even though the knowledge that L's spit was on the mouth of the flask and maybe inside it too disgusted him. He felt a rush of burning alcohol hit his gut, then his head. Not just Light but lightweight. He felt suddenly sick, then all right again.

He cleared his throat. Tried to think of something to say. "Misa loves to drink," he blurted, with apparent randomness. "No one ever verifies her age." He watched L for reaction. There was no question in his mind that L was interested in Misa. Let's see where the conversation, and the drinking, led. He passed the flask back.

"Amane-san is closer to being of-age than Light-kun." A moment's pause before L accepted, brought the lip of the bottle to his mouth without a second thought, and indulged in a sip equally gratuitous to the one that Light seemed to have taken. "And Light-kun's age is definitely showing, at the moment." Name-calling, really. How childish. Not that L was above doing things that wouldn't exactly befit his age in order to get ahead, but he was always convinced that name-calling was pointless and made the person spewing insults seem at a disadvantage.

"And it is also understandable that someone in the entertainment industry would be a bit indulgent." L nodded subtly with his words, trailing his fingertip over the side of the flask. Funny. The sensation was still there, but failed to annoy as it had previously. "She has to keep up appearances in the company of fellow entertainers, after all. " A subtle jab; one that L wasn't entirely sure Light would pick up on.

Ah, so he didn't want to talk about his obvious desire for Misa. As if making fun of his age would truly hurt him. A thought flashed through his mind, unbidden: _By the time I am of age I will be more famous than Misa ever dreamed of being._ He clamped down on it, on whatever it meant. Youngest man with a Ph.D., perhaps. Tennis pro. Murderer of the insufferable L. But no, not that. He was better than that. Better than L. He need not stoop to thoughts of throttling the insufferable freak to win over him.

"Is that why she kissed your cheek, do you suppose? Appearances?"

Another sip, and L realized that he was drinking a bit more than Light. His throat and chest felt it, as well. Warm, a sensation that wasn't entirely unpleasant tingling just at the tips of his fingers and toes. So this is what Ide took upon himself to indulge in between work hours.

"Appearances, yes. But also because Amane-san is impulsive, easily swayed by emotions. She kissed me because she was excited in that moment, and I do believe that Light-kun did not protest because there was something to be gained by it." Not to say that L took no enjoyment in the act, brief as it was. In fact, he enjoyed it quite a bit: the way Misa's lips were warm and moist against his cheek, the subsequent tingling it sent down his spine.  
"The lights should be on soon, and I would prefer if we finished this," he shook the flask subtly, now more than half-empty, "before that happens." L held it out, leaning forward a little unsteadily as he did so.

Light grinned, enjoying the flush in L's cheeks that the pale detective obviously did not know were shining in the dark emergency lighting as he talked about Misa's kiss. He grasped the flask and downed whatever was left in it, germs be damned. And weren't germs killed by alcohol anyway. There was more in the flask than he knew, however, and his throat and his eyes burned by the time he put it down in his lap. "Her name's Misa. You murmur it in your sleep, you know," Light teased, hoping he wasn't slurring his words even the tiniest bit. "Misa, Misa, Misa," he said softly, parting his lips gently with each vowel.

Staring, nearly wide-eyed, L couldn't help but allow Light's accusation to give him pause. He decided that video would have to be reviewed at a later date in order to learn whether or not Light's claim was true. However, Light was also aware of the cameras, and so why would he make a claim that could easily be disproved? Unsettling.

"When _MIsa_ kissed me, she smelled like Light-kun," he stated off-handedly, not realizing the weight of his words. "I also find it unnerving that I am being watched while asleep. " He moved to stand as the words left his lips, but the effects of the alcohol took hold, causing a very prominent sway which forced L to grip the arm of his chair, his gaze fixing on a fairly intoxicated Light Yagami.

Light's jaw dropped, then he shut it tight as L lurched. L was thinking about what he…smelled like? And now he was "unnerved" and standing and his damn dick was inches from Light's face. "Get that out of my face," he spat, pointing. Was it hard? Why was he wondering. He stood too, a bit wobbly himself but not like the swaying ape in front of him. He put his hands on L's shoulders to steady him, certainly not to steady himself, though the dark room was beginning to swim. Did Ide put something in that flask besides alcohol, he wondered, or did he just not know how to hold his liquor?

L was staring at him or it seemed like it, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. "You'd like to fuck me—Misa, wouldn't you?" he said with a smile that was slithering across his face without his conscious effort. Maybe L wouldn't notice the stutter.

Taken aback by not only Light's sudden outburst, but the uncomfortable proximity between the two of them, the detective rose to his full height, nearly completely forgetting the façade that he constantly put on for the sake of disarmament. "Language, Light-kun," he chided, though it rolled off of his tongue a bit more slurred than intended. "I don't wish sexual relations with Amane-san, no. " And he was swaying noticeably beneath Light's hands as he spoke, his own coming up to rest on the other's forearms, as to guide them away from his shoulders. "She is my _suspect_, as are you. It is improper to desire unnecessary physical contact with suspects, no matter the temptation."

Improper, thought Light, what did such a word mean to one who would one day…one day… But he couldn't hold thoughts together and what sense did any of this make. Misa. She was pretty, in her way. He liked her on his arm sometimes, the way others looked at him when they walked together down the street. Beautiful, they called her. He opened his eyes, not realizing they'd been shut. Misa was a fool, a child, but her lips…they were soft. He let his eyes drift shut again and squeezed her shoulders. Why was she wearing L's shirt? He kissed her, possessively. Whatever else she was, Misa was his.

The first thing that went through L's mind was, _Light has had too much to drink._ And this thought stayed with him, even as he slipped his own hands down, curling long fingers into the thin, expensive fabric of his suspect's shirt (so spoiled), angled his head just enough to fit their lips together without it being a sloppy assault, and closed his own eyes. This. This was bait. A way for Light to have something to hold over L's head later, something to threaten him with; though at that moment, the legal age of consent in their current country slipped his mind because his own tongue was prodding for entrance into Light's hungry mouth (and L knew hunger well), sliding over teeth, pushing and _pushing_ until L, by his own actions, was breathless.

A small gasp as he pulled away, still grasping onto Light unsteadily. "Sixty percent, Light-kun."

Light forced his eyes open at the words, for it was only the words that made entirely clear to his befuddled mind that he was not kissing Misa—but L! No wonder the kiss had been so good, so satisfying. Was anything better than kissing someone you loathed? How had he not known, not suspected this before. No, he didn't want to kill L, he wanted to fuck him. "Keep it up," he taunted, knowing the percentage game for the random poking it was. "And we'll see who's the last one left standing." He gripped L by the hair and crushed their lips together again—

"Oooh, why is it so dark in here?" squeaked Misa Amane, clacking into the room in her pointy heeled boots. "Misa almost broke her ankle coming up all those stairs!"

Light shoved L into his seat and threw himself back into his own, nearly toppling over backwards. "Power's out," both men said simultaneously, trying not to sound out of breath.


End file.
